"So ay've been told." My interest grew significantly when she'd started fishing around in the bag. It seemed she was determined to prove that whatever junk she'd stored inside was worthy. A smoke and a light seemed as proper as any, and I found the gesture to be sharp and charming. "Absolutely I have." My tone faltered over serious, "In fact, it has nothing to do with the object at all."

It was then that I waved a hand. "Semantics. Do you always strike up conversation with your would be muggers?"

“Everything is junk.” Spoken as though it were obvious. “And money is boring, innit?” My grin expanded still, but now a lukewarm stare fixated on the smaller, more fairer of us both. “Never you mind, though, love. It appears you don’t have... it.”

“Both, I suppose.” Jasper comes up behind her, offering a solid shrug to his quip. He tosses the last of his cigarette away, rolling his shoulders and neck as he does. Sleep has been elusive lately, but he’d do anything for his darling Mackenzie. “What’s up?”

I reclaimed my arm, and whether or not my grin had spread on account of contagion, I’d never know. “I said I didn’t like it, not that I was insulted.” My smile tightened, teeth no longer flashing, “If I told you that I wasn’t after your money, would you believe it?”

It was me who would press on out of intrigue now. The line of dialogue that opened was met with little conjecture. “I appreciate value in.. Things.”

Uh-uh. I could feel my skin heating beneath the weight of her gaze. It made me uncomfortable, and twitchy, and if I was any smarter of a beast I’d’ve dropped it and been on with my day. But my desire to know far outweighed my desire to flee, and instead I turned to greet my would be persecutor. “Please don’t call me that. Being likened at any rate to a piece of jewellery makes me feel cheap.”

Extracting his favorite, he tosses it over his shoulder, knowing she’d catch it. “I believe it’s your turn, right?” He turns abruptly, facing her with a glint in his eye. “You know the rules, and don’t hold back.”

Smirking, he rises from the chair and crosses over to the door, leaning in close as he passes. “You should keep better care of your things, then.” In her bedroom, he pulls out the top drawer - again - and looks it over. “Yep, just how I left it.”

I'm not convinced you'd like mine.
What is this, consensual nonconsent?
Is that your thing?
I wouldn't mind trying it, myself, but I feel like you'd need to buy me a drink first.
You'd probably just roofie me, now that I think about it.

Jasper catches the head reflexively, his face lighting up with excitement. He returns the embrace before looking over the cranium lovingly. “This is perfect. I gave away my best head to the new girl today, and now I have a better replacement.”

I am pretty, aren't I? Should have seen me months ago, it was awful. Also, listen, does this Jasper eat things normally? Is he corrupt? Stalkable? Will he make a good minion? I need minions. I should meet Jasper.

Forever illegal. The Unnamed chuckles quietly and wondered if that too was a color of lipstick. Maybe the petite Irish woman knew something she didnt. "The pleasure is mine, of course. Maybe I will see you around sometime.. until then, safe paths."

“You been on my mind,” the man sings - poorly, mind you - then stops, eyes darting around frantically before he just mumbles the next set of unknown words. Shrugging, he scoops her into a whirl of a dance, ending it with a dip before twirling her into a straightened position again. “Can’t stop thinking about you today, did you spike breakfast?”

Solid steps taken, Zaynah stops before Mackenzie, head canting as she gazes upon the woman. A single finger raises to point to the wanted poster that hangs on a nearby gas lamp. Maybe the woman will remember her from the past.. maybe she won't.

*It was no secret they'd know each other for a long time. Nor was it a secret, Lilly was loyal to Mackenzie. Over the years, she'd learned to read her fairly well. Her comment about one day thanking her lucky stars, did stir a light chuckle out of Lilly as she raised her glass as well. Giving a light nod, Lilly spoke* To a bright future... *taking a drink Lilly gave a light chuckle and continued* Though if you want him neutered... *she gave a grin, slid a pack smokes and lighter over to Mackenzie* we could always have a bonfire....

*producing to glass, Lilly sat down. No she didn't wait to be asked to sit, she just did it. She'd seen this person before, years ago. She knew that look upon Mackenzie's face. Slowly she poured the glasses full of the amber liquid. Sliding a glass over she spoke*yes...yes they can. The right one can make your world, while the wrong one can send it spinning downward.

*lifting her glass she took a drinks she thought for a moment *so dare I presume someone needs reminded who to treat women?

*Lilly approached Mackenzie, offering an aged bottle of whiskey. The blonde headed often pain in the ass, looked at her for a moment before she spoke * come.... Drink... Plot whatever ...you look like you want to plot against someone....

“‘Fraid you’re stuck with me,” he laughs lowly, hating what he has to tell her but not willing for her to hear it from anyone else. “I think you need to come to Moscow. If you want me to come back so I can travel with you, I will.”

He’s stalling, and it’s blatantly obvious. Leaning against the counter for support, Jasper looks up the ceiling, squeezes his eyes shut, and wills the words. “Spring is dead. I don’t know what happened. She just... died. She knew it was coming, as she seems to have made out a will.”

Retreating into the bathroom of Gray’s slice of Death, he breathes a loose sigh. This is the part of his day he’d been dreading the most, and with good reason. Jasper hates being the bearer of bad news.

His thumb hovers over the call button before he punches the bridge of his nose, hits it, and presses the phone to his ear. It rings. And rings. F-ck, that ring.

When she inevitably picks up, he’ll greet her normally as possible. “Hey, my beautiful darling,” he coos, a lack of conviction in his tone, “I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. It’s... listen, we need to talk...”

*The Irish witch laughs a bit*
"We will see what happens as I said . I want to see what goes on the nest few weeks or so out side of the covens and Sanctuaries . I sort of miss the old days here myself."

*Laughs* Just noticed you opened a crew. Yeah I know been awhile since ya opened I am sure but been busy here and noticed because Lilly was in it . Congrats again on gold. Few crews I would join and it between you and one other at this point. I have had gold before never again not for along long time.

Mackenzie Darling
Darling, I look like a hairless rodent. I truly believe you would not be flaunting this look yourself.
That’s wonderful, and you know it’s absolutely reciprocated, but “the enemy” is super hot, and when my hair grow back, it’s. f-cking. on.

Mackenzie Darling
Actually, that tells me all I need to know. He basically fills in the slot that any common, one night stand could do. It’s a shame, he should cuddle you more.
Yes, he is, but he’s mine. I take what I can get. Not like anyone else will have me in this condition.
It’s your discomfort, not mine.

Mackenzie Darling
You dirty, lying, betraying sk-nk.
It doesn’t matter, though, because it was mine, for me, and no one else.
I hope you got your fill of me, I’m not coming out of this cave until it grows back.

The deception was revealed, and his brows raised up at her as he straightened, honestly surprised. Hardly a moment passed before a sudden uproar of contagious laughter threw his head back. He quieted shortly after, though the amusement remained in his tone.

"I'd like to say I'm not, but now I'm not so sure." Chuckling, he shook his head at himself. "I work in a hospital, so if someone tells me I've got something on my face, I believe it."

God, white sauce stuck to his black stubble? He had lunch hours ago. There he was, thinking he had friends at work while a gob of ranch was stuck to his face. Awesome.

“Left?” Following her direction, he wiped a little to the side, but felt like he was missing it. He stuck his tongue out and tried to swipe at his leftovers, but wasn’t entirely sure if he’d succeeded. Giving another good rub with his hand, he bent to present his face for her inspection. “Did I get it?”

MackI am not Russian. Just a twitchy Czech. But yeaaa, this just got weird. So, um, I'm just going to go back to staring at this odd spot on my ceiling and wish you the best. I think it might be black mold...

.....you know what they say, cant keep a good Emperium down. . . Or was that can't keep a good dog down. ..lol anyways...doing good, doing good .. Still waiting to split that bottle of Jack with you whenever you're ready

He snorts, sticking his tongue out in a disgusted manner. “I would not, that f-cking lead dude is so unbearable. I never knew an actor could be so ugly and so terrible, all in one. Like, what’s his selling point?”

Jasper laughs at her assessment, taking two large swigs in succession before responding. “He doesn’t seem that bad, really. He just needs a good lay or two, get things loosened back up.” Pondering deliberately, he considers his friend before a smile breaks the tension. “You think Spring would be willing to bite the bullet for us?”

There’s a slight stiffening in his posture, though he moves to stretch and yawn. Taking the offered bottle, he passes off the topic with a shrug. “I think that Gray guy took care of it. I complained enough that I’m sure he wa tired of listening to me. Don’t think he likes me much.” He nudges her with the bottle to pass it back, laughter in his eyes. “Wonder if that’s anything to do with you.”

He groans theatrically at her choice, procuring a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and landing one in his lips before offering it up to her. “You do realize I’m not a chick, right? Why don’t we ever watch action movies? Oh, or old movies, with Fred astaire and sh-t.”

He gets the notification just as he reaches the top of the elevator. Rolling his storm colored eyes, they fall on Mack, who is indeed waiting at the door. He wiggles the phone at her, furrowing his brow in mock annoyance. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, I’m here. I brought rum, for after the vodka. I plan on getting sh-tfaced so you better be down.”

He presses a playful peck to her cheek as he passes, collapsing onto the couch comfortably. “Thanks for the heads up about the zombies, by the way. You know I hate them.” The glare he casts her is withering.

Wee IrishEven if the Redcoat is going...I can be there as quick as a shadow.If things go badly.Try to not burn anything down without me.Derek is great.And different as well.Did we some how get lucky this time?Because I plan to keep mine too.

Memory hadn’t served him through two separate deaths, so when she recounts what really went down, he shakes his head in disbelief. After all they’d been through, everything that happened, and the camaraderie that came with being a family...

Nothing.

Jasper collapses back on the couch, fuming. “More and more, I’m starting to see that.” It’s an absent-minded thought, as he leans his head back and let’s out a huff of annoyance.

Then, suddenly, a wicked grin splits his features.

“It means nothing. All we can do is wish her the best and move on. For now, let’s go hunt. I’m in the mood to kill something, for some reason.”

Startled awake by the sudden summoning, he practically leaps out of his skin when she vaults over the coffee table. Fully coherent now, he stares down at her phone screen, a flurry of emotion clouding his gray gaze as he takes it all in. A new coven, an old face. But...

Not. A. Single. Mention.

“Loyalty remains dead in the Realm.” The words are dark as he hands back the device, meeting her fiery eyes with an irritation of his own. “Tell me what else.”

-sharply inhales-
-practically throws her and her phone off him-
-twists and turns, attempting to check own ass-If it is, it’s because your bloody Redcoat has poor taste in bath tissue.
-growls-Hasn’t he ever heard of f-ckin’ Charmin?

-rolls eyes-I was being facetious.
-grins for the picture-I’m hairless as a newborn babe.
-takes phone, starts poking around on this Snapchat-How the f-ck should I know how it works, I was just born, remember?
-proceeds to snap pic of his ass and send to all her contacts-

“Do you… do you smell that? Smells like bullsh-t. Am I right?” He wafted the “scent” toward himself theatrically. “I think I’m right.”

Smirking breezily as he dropped the act, he stepped toward her and ducked, catching her lips with his in a brief kiss. “If you’re not ready to be married, that’s fine. I’m not going anywhere. When you are, I think we should honeymoon in Norway. I have reasons.”

Mackenzie stepped away from him, and his arms lifted to cross over his chest. He watched her, a single skeptical brow raising as she fussed with her phone for a moment. As soon as she turned, he felt his own cellular vibrate in his pocket, and he narrowed his eyes at her before retrieving it.

Dark eyes moved swiftly over the “group” text before lifting to examine her expression. A slow smile overtook Victor’s face only a moment before a quick bout of full blown laughter filled the room. “You’re so full of sh-t. Even the thought of me going down on a knee almost sent you into hysterics, and you think I’m gonna believe a change of heart this quickly?”

No way. She was angling for something else, he was sure of it. He eyed her up with a shrewd gaze. “I think you don’t believe I really meant it when I asked you. You’re thinking I only asked as a bluff to satisfy you.” He chuckled darkly. “Denial is fine, but I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t mean it. You can’t scare me off.”

The petite powerhouse melted into his touch, and it brought a satisfied tilt to his lips. It was intensely exciting to him that something could be so tiny and so dangerous. The woman could easily rip his head off without breaking a sweat. Maybe that’s why he enjoyed pressing her buttons so much. He just enjoyed courting death.

Likewise, she knew how to press his buttons, and she’d spent plenty of time figuring out just where they were. “Catholic? Sure. I might burst into flames when I set foot inside the church, but I think I can take the heat.”

He was almost certain that she was simply taking the piss, but he would have his fun regardless. Tilting his head, he brought his lips closer to her ear. “Mackenzie Lockheed. It has a little something to it, wouldn’t you say?”

Victor relinquished the zippo without a fight, nor did he protest when she lifted one of his cigarettes. They already operated on a ‘what’s mine is yours’ policy, for f-ck’s sake. Not to mention they argued like they’d been married for a few decades already.

“Have you seen how much I drink? I’m essentially a high functioning alcoholic.” She was playing coy just to tease him. He liked it. Moving in behind her smaller form, he drew her in against him with his hands upon her waist. Laying a precisely placed bite upon her neck – enough to leave a tiny mark – he murmured enticingly, “Think about it. I could be your emergency contact.”

“Well,” He began, twirling his zippo around between his fingers, “For one, you get half of my emotional baggage. For keeps.” He smirked at her, white smile stark against his olive skin. “I think there’s also something about legal and monetary ramifications if this Lockheed isn’t behaving himself, which some might find interesting.”

He didn’t really think she was considering it, but he was pretty sure the idea was titillating to her in some way. “Who is this friend we’re talking about? If it’s Spring, I need to be a little more drunk.”

Mackenzie
So what, you just f*ck off back to the shadows? Just CC me into a f*cking email, send me some money and go? Wow. F*ck you too, Mackenzie. F*ck you. You're a f*cking joke, Mackenzie. You realise this, yes? A f*cking mess. "Everyone leaves me", well look who's done the same. Congratulations. Do you understand how f*cking hard it was to actually talk to you after everything? To get the f*cking nerve? I don't know why I f*cking bothered. You have people who f*cking stick by you and care about you to the bitter end, but it's obvious where your priorities lie. Where they always lie. It's you first and f*ck the rest of us. We're here when you need us and just as ****ing disposable when you don't. You didn't even ask, Mackenzie. You haven't even asked me one single f*cking question about how I am, yet you know. You f*cking know that...no. F*ck you. F*CK YOU.

Katherine had waited days; truthfully, she didn't really know how to give comfort in any kind of way other than offering an ear had Mackenzie needed it. The only thing she could think of doing is quite out of the ordinary for her; she absconded with every libation provided by the Irish. Bless her poor Scottish soul.

Kat would also wait until all was quiet around Sonder to even stack the bottles in front of Kenzie's door, she would not be caught like this. But, she also knew it might be needed and the note she left would offer the ear.

Walking a different plane than most of the living afforded one with the ability to see life essences. As the foot of this stranger came down on Gyldi’s tail and effectively through it, she wondered at her lack of aura entirely. Curiouser still was the fact that the “contact” - for lack of a better term - didn’t bring the usual warmth that came with passing through the living. Instead, it was icy, like the feeling she usually exchanged for their warmth.

As she would turn to go, the beasty would bound after, catching up until she cast her body through Mackenzie entirely. Just as expected, she was met with that curious ice, and she wondered if the woman felt the same. Turning her head until she looked over her shoulder, she cast Eiji a questioning look, hoping it would explain.

Mortals can melt into the crowd, lose themselves, keep their distance. But for the likes of him, of them, well, could they ever be that lucky? For how long can you hide with an eternity ahead of you? When you’ve used up every dark corner and have nowhere else to go?

When Jack had left, when he’d finally gone and closed the door of the cabin behind him, he knew her goodbye would be the last. Too many broken moments. Too much pain. Whatever state she was now in, all this time later, he had every faith that the emotional scars still lingered from all he’d put her through. But did that mean she didn’t still care? As he’d sat there every night, thinking of her. As he’d time and time again been told to ’give it a fcking rest already!’ by Tanvir as he’d once again found means to bring Mackenzie Brooks into conversation. They’d been something else, he’d tell her. Nothing quite like them had ever existed, and it never would again.

But now his journey was over, his fight for a freedom from the very thing that had clouded their relationship. Was he ‘fixed’? No. But he was in control. That wickedness, the evil that lived within him, he’d found the balance. He was Jack Horton and the monster, perfectly knotted together.

But it was too late now. He knew better. And as he sat at the desk in the suite of The London, NYC, hunched over the same damn piece of paper for hour six or seven, he couldn’t find a single word to write. He’d had such wonderful intentions. A ‘be safe’ here. An ‘it’s all over’ there. A note to let her know that what had taken him away, what had haunted them for years, was finally through. And a wish that she find happiness from whatever wreckage he’d left her in. Yes nothing flowed from the branded pen in his hand. Nothing but her name, Mackenzie, in his cursive script.

Finally, some hours later as the sun rose, spreading its light across him through the wide wall of windows, he sealed the envelope and pulled on his shoes to find the nearest post box.

She could play hard to get all she wanted. Mackenzie was actively torturing Jameson f*cking Orlav, and he knew the reason. It was for him. Mackenzie couldn't deny that. It put her and her Sanctuary at risk, just like she had proclaimed she would never do. Her actions told a story as plain as day.

Feeling suddenly quite charitable, he obliged Mackenzie's request. Switching his phone to camera mode, he bent down next to his doomed, sobbing companion.

"Give me a scream, pretty girl."

Mick
Tell me where you are.
[IMG Rec'd]

The image was a closeup of an attractive young woman with rivers of mascara running down her pink, sobbing face, Victor's fingers clearly snatching her head back by her hair.